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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26573431">On the Journey to Recovery</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeceasedWill/pseuds/DeceasedWill'>DeceasedWill</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Piece</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Ask me to add tags please and thank youu, Bullying, Caring Roronoa Zoro, Domestic Fluff, Eggplant Sanji, Fluff and Angst, How is that not a tag, Hurt Vinsmoke Sanji, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, My First Fanfic, My First Work in This Fandom, One Shot, POV Vinsmoke Sanji, Post-Whole Cake Island, Protective Roronoa Zoro, Roronoa Zoro and Vinsmoke Sanji Bickering, Sick Character, Sick Vinsmoke Sanji, Teen rated for someone god damn mouth, Vinsmoke Sanji Needs a Hug, Vinsmoke Sanji-centric, trying to think of tags because it's my first time doing so</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 11:14:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,416</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26573431</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeceasedWill/pseuds/DeceasedWill</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Three times Sanji was sick, three times it reflected who his family was.</p>
<p>Cold imprisonment.</p>
<p>Delicious soup and warm hands.</p>
<p>Light Kisses.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aka Ashi no Zeff | Red-Leg Zeff &amp; Vinsmoke Sanji, Mugiwara Kaizoku | Strawhat Pirates &amp; Vinsmoke Sanji, Roronoa Zoro/Vinsmoke Sanji, Vinsmoke Sanji &amp; Vinsmoke Family, Vinsmoke Sanji &amp; Vinsmoke Sora</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>315</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>On the Journey to Recovery</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Man, I'm nervous about my first fic.</p>
<p>Let's get this journey sailing shall we?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Cold, Pain, Yearning.</b>
</p>
<p>The north wind howled outside, the breeze flooded in through the window bars, harshly nipping at the prominent purple blue bruises and angry, red, tiny cuts that painted over the once pale smooth skin. The soft hair spattered and snuck on the blond’s forehead from the cold sweat as small shivers shook the petite figure, accompanied by uneven wheezes and coughs that burned the young boy’s throat. Boney hands ripped on the thin blanket, trapping as much warmth as possible while letting out a quiet whine when he shifted away from the wind on the unforgiving concrete floor of the dungeon, rubbing at his agitated wounds.</p>
<p>He continued slowly shuffling away from the violent breeze to the opposite end of the cell, where he was also faced with another set of bars that locked him away from the rest of the world, kept away his freedom. That would force him to rot here until his end, just because his father couldn’t dirty his hands to get rid of him for good. </p>
<p>The whole country already thinks Sanji Vinsmoke, the Third Prince of Germa 66 died due to an “unfortunate and tragic accident,” assuming he was met with an early grave like his mother. Instead, he was put in a dungeon and to never be heard of again because he was weak. Imprisoned and locked away because he’ll never be of use to the Germa, to father, and to his family. The corners of the cell seemed darker, more intimidating, as if it was enforcing its existence, reminding him of where he is and why. A failure.</p>
<p>His bloodshot, drained, and glazed eyes, nothing that a child should have ever have, reflected in those grey-blue orbs that should hold hope, but instead harboured despair. A fragile thin arm moved out of the barely warm blanket and gripped as strong as the weakened boy could, onto the cold iron bar, tugging it as if he could pull it off and escape. The iron helmet encased his head made a sharp clink as the front hit the bars.</p>
<p>Was this how mom felt?</p>
<p>Like she was trapped and could never get away from the monster of a man she called her husband? Mom was bed-ridden, trapped in her own body, and was severely sick which caused her death. Trapped and sick of the family that could not feel or give love? It’s so painful. Was this how mom died? </p>
<p>Was this how he was going to die too?</p>
<p>His vision became more distorted as the small droplets of tears trailed down the proclaimed deceased prince as they fell and gathered in the iron cold helmet, coarse sobs and choked gasps of air could be heard from a desperate child wanting a family, love, and acceptance.</p>
<p>The searing and aching his body felt from his brothers beating him, the sting in his eyes when he weeped from his father’s words, the heaviness his heart carried from his mother’s death, and his grueling soul cried for something, anything to ease the agony.</p>
<p>The blond retracted his hand from the freezing bar, back to what little warm of a shelter he had, and wrapped his arms tightly around a book which he held closely to his chest.</p>
<p>Sanji clung on tight, and held it as if it was his only hope and salvation from the cruel and raw reality he lived in. Holding close to his heart, was a dream. A dream of finding a mystical ocean.</p>
<p>As he faded consciousness, in contrast to his cell, he felt a warm hand on his forehead and saw a tearful look from what he could tell from his blurry vision, a pink blob kneeled in front of him, and seeming like it was consoling him. </p>
<p>Sanji wished it was real. Unknowingly, he had another hope who cradled his head and wiped his tears through the bars was also with him.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p> ━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━</p>
</div><b>Warmth, Soup, Father.</b><p>Sanji knew he was coming down with something even before he opened his eyes. The scratchy and soreness of his throat seems to have really caught up to him in the last few days, sneaked up like an unexpected Sea King flipping a ship because he sure felt like he was drowning in sweat and sandpaper. The sun wasn’t even peeking over the horizon yet, there was still plenty of time before all the cooks had to be in the kitchen and the morning rush of hungry customers who were waking up to the aroma of freshing cooked food.</p>
<p>Despite being ungodly early, Sanji slowly unwrapped himself out of the warm cocoon bundle, in no doubt he would deny a whine had escaped from him when his bare feet made contact with the cold wooden floor. The quiet pitter patter of small feet making its way down the hall to the bathroom, now he was standing up, he could feel every movement of the ship.<br/>
The gentle roll of waves licked into the side of the floating restaurant and the cold morning air as the ocean woke up. In contrast to the busy bustling kitchen, he would enjoy the rare idyllic atmosphere, especially on a special day like today, however, not when he is constantly swaying and stumbling like his sea legs decided to take a vacation and his stomach demanding one too, the way nausea twisted inside of him. Sniffling and trying to contain his violent sneezes to not wake up all the other shit cooks, not that he really could with their loud snoring that could be heard as Sanji stumbled passed their rooms. Sanji made his way to the bathroom, thankfully vomit free, for now. </p>
<p>He looked <i>awful.</i> Felt awful too.</p>
<p>Reflecting off the mirror was an undoubtedly sick Sanji. His skin sheened under the sweat, blond hair tousled looking like it was a bird nest, glassy eyes, his cheeks, nose, and tip of the ears were rosy. He might’ve looked a little green too. </p>
<p>His head pounded as the blond got prepared for the day ahead of him, washing the sweat stuck on his face and changing into his little chef uniform, he painstakingly made his way to the kitchen through the candle lit hallways. Obviously knowing that it was going to be more hellish than normal with the old geezer’s kicks and yelling, the high paced environment of the rowdy kitchen, and looking presentable in front of the customers. </p>
<p>Sanji prepped what he needed to make, going over to the storage and heaving a bit from moving the hefty bag of rice as he scooped the rice into a bowl, stepping on his stool to reach the sink, he ignored the cold water pouring down on his hands as he washed the rice, and turned on the rice cooker. Quietly opened one of the large fridges and put a few eggs, carrots, broccoli, and sausages on his tray and carried back his ingredients to the sink, stepping back onto his stool as he started washing the vegetables.</p>
<p>As time passed, the morning sun slowly rose and peeked over the horizon, the chefs one by one woke up and started another day in Baratie, until they all smelled something like meat cooking. Zeff didn’t need to be a genius to figure out who was already up and busting their ass in his kitchen, especially when the door with a jaggy “S” that was carved into was wide open and they’re bed was clearly empty. This wasn’t unusual per say, the little eggplant always wants to keep improving and develop as a cook, his passion burns and grows like his shitty vocabulary, however, Zeff does drag Sanji back to bed since he’s a growing boy, he needs more sleep, even more so with his training. Though on further inspection, Sanji’s bed was unmade. No matter how tired, grumpy, or rushed he was, he always made his bed, this might have been the work of Zeff beating the cleaning routine around the kitchen into him and his mannerisms were brought to other aspects in keeping tidy. Speaking of the eggplant, he should really check on him, damn brat probably stayed or got up at a ridiculous time again. </p>
<p>Zeff reached the kitchen, and did not expect to see the sight in front of him.</p>
<p>On one of the many counters in his kitchen, were several wooden bento boxes enough to feed all the chefs in Baratie. Lifting the closest box and opening the lid, Zeff's eyes widened in surprise. What contained inside were white sticky rice which were obviously overcooked, golden scramble eggs, small sausages that attempted to look like octopus but instead looked like spilt ends of hair, but what really caught his attention were the carrots.</p>
<p>The carrots that were carved out to say “Happy Birthday Dad.” The letters were engraved by inexperienced and unsteady hands, with its edges lopsided and choppy, but Zeff couldn’t imagine something better. </p>
<p>Scanning around the kitchen, his old eyes finally landed on the one responsible. He was sitting on the stool, arms laid on the edge of the sink with his head rested in the middle of his pale limbs as if he was sleeping. The sun spilled through the window and shone on the younger blond’s head, casting a sort of white halo wrapped around his head. Perhaps the little eggplant would’ve looked peaceful if it wasn’t for his furrowed curly brows and abnormal amount of sweating pasted on his paler than normal skin.</p>
<p>It felt like scalding hot and icy cold water was boiling and freezing him at the same time, putting his forehead on the chilly metal of the sink to cool off but also shivering at the morning air, why can’t his body decide to feel one thing?</p>
<p>Sanji can't afford to be sick, he can’t afford to be <i>weak.</i>   </p>
<p>The reason he was thrown into a dungeon was because he was a failure. Zeff recognized and acknowledged him as a cook, after his mom did. She was the only one that supported and ate his cooking, even when what he created wasn’t even considered <i>edible!</i> What the hell was he good for when he couldn’t even make a decent bento for his old geezer? What was the point of Zeff cutting off his fucking leg that was his pride as a pirate and abandoning his crew to save a stupid foul mouth brat?! What next? His dream of Baratie? His hands? How can he continue to cook in memory of his mother if it means it will cost the shitty geezer’s dream?!</p>
<p>Sanji sank deeper into self-deprecation, he didn’t even realize the older blond came beside him until he felt a hand on his back. It took a moment to realize, he could feel the warmth of the big hand through his chef shirt, comforting and grounding him. It was different than all the hands he felt before. This hand doesn’t possess the intent to harm, to hurt, to degrade. Another hand was touching his forehead, Sanji could make out the soft wrinkles and leathery skin stroking his temple, where has he recognized this sensation from? </p>
<p>The last vision Sanji saw before his eyelids gave out was a tall chef hat yelling something behind them before turning back to him with familiar blue eyes. He thought of his mother, receiving the bento he had dropped in the storm on his way to her, and ate it with a bright smile. As he succumbed into darkness, Sanji vaguely felt strong arms lift his small body against a warm chest, he could feel the other’s shoulder cave in slightly, as if to shield him from the world.</p>
<p>There was something around his head, limiting his sight, it was dark, so dark, he could barely see where he was. Very familiar tall black bars towering over him, just like that day. He could hear hush whispers around him, but it wasn’t like the frigid stones confining him once again. He could hear the worry and <i>care.</i> Sanji reached out, just like that day, expecting to touch the cold unmoving prison bar when he was younger, instead, his small pale hand was met by a steady warm one, rough and leathery, but so <i>warm.</i> Completely different from that place, so forgien to him, and he gripped it like a starving man, like when he was on that rock, like when he held onto the book that gave spark to his dream, and the feeling was full heartedly returned with a squeeze.</p>
<p>All of a sudden, he wasn’t at Germa, Sanji was surrounded by the soft comfort of his blankets and pillow, wasn’t the dirty, raggy, and scratchy one he desperately clung onto on the dungeon floor. His nose was invaded by the smell of chicken and broth?  Sanji could barely see through the slits when he lifted his fluttering eyelids, he saw what he had held onto. Zeff was seated on a chair, next to his bed, on his bedside of what he could see was a bowl and steam was rising out of it, and it hit him, <i>chicken noodle soup.</i> And in Zeff’s other hand was a wooden bento, empty of the content inside of it.</p>
<p>“Next time, make one when you’re not on the edge of collapsing. It wasn’t bad at all.” Zeff said, but there was an underlying message of praise, of acceptance, of pride. </p>
<p>“Get some rest, little eggplant, no one’s going anywhere.” Gentle rough voice and delicious aroma lulled him into the abyss, but Sanji wasn’t scared. He isn’t anxious for what’s to come when he wakes up like with his siblings, he’s not going to freeze, he’s not going to be abandoned. His eyes failed to keep open any further, but once again, he was warm, and the hand squeezed back his as he slept more peacefully than he ever has in a long time. </p>
<p>For once in his life after his mother’s death, Sanji felt so <i>safe.</i></p>
<p>“Thank you dad.”</p>
<p>He felt something gently pressed on his forehead that made it so nostalgic, it reminded him so much of his mother’s kisses.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p> ◦ ❖ ◦ </p>
</div>“Don’t catch a cold.” Zeff said, with a tear streaked face, with a proud smile, sending off his son to the vast blue.<p>His departing words that meant so much, to take care, to their dream of All Blue. This is where his journey starts, no, his journey started on the moment he stepped off of Germa, his journey to recovery.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p> ━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━</p>
</div><b>Alive, Love, Nakama.</b><p>He feels way too hot.</p>
<p>And no, not in the way when ladies look at Sanji or the heat he feels from his own flames or cooking, he does feel however, like he’s in an oven.</p>
<p>And maybe a certain mosshead clinging onto him is part of that problem. </p>
<p>Suddenly, the morning sunlight pouring into the crow’s nest seemed way too bright when it plastered on his face. Sanji knows this feeling very well, a little too well. He stuffed his face into his sweat covered pillow, letting out an involuntary groan. His throat felt like it’s been in a shredder and his skin can feel every stitch and shift of the blanket, and very much feel the furnace on his back emitting heat waves that would otherwise be giving him a heatstroke if he wasn’t already dying from one.</p>
<p>Rustling in the lovely bed that Franky specifically made for him and Zoro in the crowsnest, trying to find a position that didn’t make him feel like he’s being steamed like a fish and away from the supernova stuck on his back. Unfortunately, a tan arm around his waist seemed to disagree, tightening its hold on Sanji and pulled him in closer into a scarred broad chest, fitting in like a puzzle piece, as the marimo nuzzled into his neck, making him hotter than before.</p>
<p>“Sweaty curly brows.” Zoro murmured, but still buried his face deeper into his lover’s golden locks.</p>
<p>He has the <i>audacity</i> to move closer when Sanji’s seconds away from being burned alive.</p>
<p>“I thought marimos preferred colder temperatures, not sending off heat waves from hell. Go back to your habitat moss head or did you get lost again?” He cringed a little from how rough and wheezy his throat felt and sound than a normal morning voice did.</p>
<p>“And I thought idiots don’t get sick but here we are.”  </p>
<p>“You want to say that again-” His sentence was interrupted by the itch in his throat and harsh, painful coughing that continued to fill the air, he propped himself on his elbows dry heaving over the bed with nothing coming out. After a few more moments alternating between rasping and choking on air, Sanji could finally inhale without hacking up a lung. His head took a few moments to register a gentle hand smoothing his back and the other laced around his hand, not noticing that he was gripping it while his cough fest happened. </p>
<p>Before Sanji could say anything else, he was swifty flipped and nestled in the croak of Zoro’s arm and a cool cup of water already pressing at his thin lips and seconds later he was relished in the sweet relief of cool water running down his sore throat, emptying the content in the glass cup. Next thing he felt something hard but warm on his head, opening his eyes (when had he closed them?) Sanji was met with furrowed brows and an intense look in Zoro’s hazel eye.</p>
<p>“Wha-”</p>
<p>“Why didn’t you say anything?” Zoro’s voice was tense and serious, but it was weighted with worry. </p>
<p>“I just woke up like this-”</p>
<p>“No way you didn’t feel something before with the reaction like that.”</p>
<p>Sanji couldn’t even rebuttal as he’s literally swept off his feet and wrapped in their shared blanket like a cocoon, his arms around a thick neck and levitated so that he’s sitting on Zoro’s arm and resting his top half on his shoulder, using his free arm, Zoro steadily climbed down the the crowsnest. </p>
<p>“I’m not a rag doll, you brute! I can get down by myself-”</p>
<p>“If you don’t stop talking, I’ll make it so you can’t stand or complain anymore.” Zoro’s deep husky baritone voice whispered right next to his ear feeling every breath, promising every word, and Zoro never breaks promises, no matter how big or small. Sanji quivered from his lover lightly sucking and licking at his neck, leaving a trail of pinkish red around his collarbone. </p>
<p>As they descended, Chopper immediately ran to the duo, bombarding Sanji with questions and teary eyed since saying he should’ve noticed earlier at the extent of  how hard Sanji was working who was bound to come down with something. Trying to calm the upset reindeer, the rest of the crew slowly appeared from their rooms, showing concern, care, and so much <i>love.</i> </p>
<p>After being settled down in the infirmary and calming down a tearful Chopper and Brook, an encouraging and enthusiastic from Franky and Usopp, a blessing from lovely Nami swan and Robin chan, and a precious straw hat from Luffy, he’s lying comfortably on the white sheets. </p>
<p>And of course, his idiot swordsman's sitting by his bedside who haven’t left since morning, holding his hand firmly, the warmth reminding him of someone else as well.</p>
<p>“You’re going to get sick if you keep kissing me idiot marimo.” </p>
<p>“Idiots don’t get sick.” </p>
<p>“Are you admitting you’re an idiot?”</p>
<p>“I’m not the one sick here dumb cook.” </p>
<p>“Touché, algae can’t really get sick now do they?”</p>
<p>Sanji was met by a blank stare from the moss next to him.</p>
<p>“You’re glad that Chopper forbid you to get out of bed or else I would’ve swiped that smug little smirk off your face.”</p>
<p>“There are other ways to do that.”</p>
<p>“Didn’t you just say not to?”</p>
<p>Despite their words, Zoro met him halfway, and Sanji gladly met him in the middle.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The realization where young Sanji knew his love didn’t reciprocate in his family, the day where he received news of his mother’s death, the weeks where he starved and met Zeff, the encounter he had with Luffy at Baratie, and the moment where he is in love with Zoro, he got what his younger self wished for, a family that loved him back as much as he did, and now, he was and still is, on the journey to recovery and to the dream of All Blue with his Nakama.</p>
<p>Fin.</p>
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p> ◦ ❖ ◦ </p>
</div>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ahh, sorry for any grammar or English mistakes, language has never been my strong suit, but here is it, sick Sanji! </p>
<p>Note, I have not watched anything passed the timeskip besides knowing how WCI arc turned out! I do have an idea of a Cat AU featuring ZoSan however, it will probably be a long time before that's posted due to school. ;;</p>
<p>Here's my Tumblr if you want to submit any ZoSan ideas, no promises that they are going to be written but every idea is appreciated! Constructive criticism is welcomed and comments fuel my creativity, and I hope you enjoyed! Thank you for your time and hope yall stay healthy and safe ^^</p>
<p>Instagram: <a href="https://www.instagram.com/navyaviaryavy/">navyaviaryavy</a><br/>Tumblr: <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/navyaviaryavy">navyaviaryavy</a><br/>Kofi: <a href="https://ko-fi.com/navyavy">navyavy</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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